What Freedom Means
by checkthetime
Summary: Atlas was just fourteen when she fell through a rift in the worlds and landed in front of a tall and intimidating man. For two years she suffered through a fate worse than death, until the day came when she could escape.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: **

On the outside, the girl appeared ordinary enough. She had smooth brown hair, a pale complexion and an average build, but on the inside she was being torn apart. Her own mind was attacking her, telling her to rid the world of her existence. Usually the girl could fight off the dark thoughts, but that night she could not. After all, it was her fault that her best friend was dead.

The girl stood at the top of the bridge, her glossy locks of hair flowing in the wind, and breathed out slowly. This was it. If she didn't do this, she'd be forever wondering if she made the right choice to back out. I don't deserve to live in this world, to breathe its air, she thought. No, this had to be done. She edged closer to the drop and looked down at the water churning far below. Normally falling into water would be painless, but from this height she might as well be falling straight onto concrete. She vaguely wondered if anyone at all would miss her, before remembering that no one would, because there was no one left who cared. They were all gone. The girl would just become a forgotten memory rather than an unwanted burden.

This is it, she thought as she braced herself to jump. This is it. She closed her eyes and breathed out again. The girl inhaled and exhaled, gently and calmly. Her heart beat was calm, despite what lay ahead, or rather, what didn't. She glanced around at the glowing city lights one last time before she took the plunge.

She stepped off the side and fell.

It seemed like forever and the wind rushed past her, but she found it oddly calming. But nothing can last forever and her strange reverie was broken as an explosion of colour surrounded her falling body. A gasp escaped her lips as her downwards motion halted, and she cried out in pain as she felt every molecule in her body being ripped apart and then be replaced again. A white light blasted out of nowhere, and she barely managed to hold onto consciousness. At last the glow faded, and the stunned girl fell again, no doubt into a dark abyss or something like that, she thought wryly. All she really knew was that she was falling for far longer than she should have been.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: **

Atlas closed her eyes as she tumbled through the air, resigning herself to death but death wasn't to be. Arms wrapped around her falling body, and she held in a gasp of surprise.

"Where'd she come from?" She heard someone ask in a language she recognised as Japanese, and opened her eyes to see that she was surrounded by a group of men. One in particular stood out from the rest, with glowing purple eyes and shimmering curls of white hair falling across his forehead.

"I do not know," that man replied, in the same language and she mentally thanked God that she had learnt Japanese at school.

"Where am I?" Atlas asked them in their language, and they all glanced down at her, seeming surprised that she'd spoken.

"Who are you?" The light-haired man asked in response and Atlas scowled up at him, deciding that she wasn't in the mood to play games.

"I won't say my name until you tell me where I am," she replied darkly, realising that giving out her name to strangers would be a bad idea, and suddenly a man beside the first chuckled. This man had dark hair, and his eyes were obscured from vision by a pair of dark-tinted glasses.

"You have some courage to speak to Aya-tan like that," he said cheerfully and she raised her eyebrows. _So I'm meant to be intimidated_, she thought. _Well then_.

"Where am I?" She repeated and the first man looked at her flatly.

"That is of no consequence. All you need to know is that you are no longer in your world," he said mysteriously and Atlas barely managed to keep in a snort of disbelief. Despite her certainty that she had most definitely not left her world, fear was rushing through her veins and lodging itself deep inside her heart. _Perhaps this is a near-death hallucination? Did I somehow survive my fall and end up in a coma?_ Atlas was soon torn from her thoughts. "My name is Ayanami and I am the Chief of Staff of the Barsburg Imperial Military. And you are now a slave."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I say," Ayanami replied, and she swallowed. _Where the hell am I?_ Ayanami frowned and turned to the men standing behind him. Atlas belatedly realised that they were all wearing a military uniform coloured black and gold, and not one she was familiar with. "Put her in restraints and take her to the traders." He ordered and two officers saluted.

"Yes sir!"

As they pulled her to her feet and started dragging her away, Atlas heard the dark-haired man talking to Ayanami. "Isn't that a bit harsh? All she did was turn up in the wrong place."

"That girl is not from our world; do not pity her. I can sense that she will oppose us in every way she can, but I also suspect that killing her would be a very bad idea. So instead I'll break her spirit," Ayanami replied, and Atlas tried to yank out of the soldier's grips. But they were far stronger than she was, and despite her struggles, she couldn't get out of their holds.

"Stop struggling," one commanded her, and the feisty fourteen year old scowled at him.

"As if," she responded, only to feel a wrenching pain in her side. The soldier on her right shoved her forward some more.

"Stop struggling," he snapped and Atlas finally subsided with a venomous glare at her captor.

Ten minutes later she had chains binding her wrists together, and another pair of irons linking her ankles together. Atlas gave the restraints an experimental tug, and winced as the cold metal bit into her pale skin. There would be no escaping from the chains. The man in front of her whom she presumed to be a trader was talking. "Why is this one being enslaved?"

"She gave cheek to Ayanami-sama."

"I see. Well, she'll soon learn to hold her tongue." A man in his middle-ages walked around her, looking Atlas up and down. "Well, she's got an excellent build, and a pretty face. I know exactly what to do with her," he stated. "You two may go; she's not going anywhere after all." The two soldiers saluted him and departed. She swallowed nervously and the trader chuckled. "That's right; be scared darling. There's far worse to come, because you belong to me now. You're one of Akito's slaves."

Akito whistled, and a man entered the room, his dark eyes instantly falling onto the captured girl.

"New slave sir?"

"So it seems. It just needs to be branded; I don't think you need to be told which type."

"No sir, it's pretty obvious." The second man replied, a dark undertone in his voice. She watched both men fearfully, dreading her fate. _I never should have climbed that bridge_. Then she noticed that the way she had been referred to. 'It' was hardly a pleasant way to be talked about as. And just moments before, she had been a 'she'. Now she was less than that, less than human. She was a slave.

"Takeo, take it away and brand it." Akito commanded, and Takeo obeyed, pulling Atlas up and off of the floor before yanking her chains to indicate she was to follow him. She remained silent as they walked down a narrow hallway, knowing that she shouldn't push her luck by speaking. Takeo opened a door on the left of the corridor and shoved her inside in front of him.

"Lay down on that table." Takeo commanded her and she scowled, before reluctantly obeying. He slapped her, and she winced in pain. "Keep that expression off your face." Atlas smoothed her features and he smiled sadistically. "That's better. Now, if you can keep a straight face, or better yet, smile through this ordeal, I won't whip you afterwards. Deal?" Atlas just stared at him. _What on earth is he going to do to me?_ "Table," he reminded her firmly, and she hastily lay down. He rolled his eyes and roughly shoved her over so she was lying on her stomach. He then proceeded to tie her to the table, and she somehow kept her emotions off of her youthful, round face. But there was no way in hell that he could make her smile.

"Take your last breaths as a normal human," Takeo said, with the dark undertone in his voice again. Atlas glanced to her left as best she could and failed to keep her shock and fear off her face. Takeo had somehow produced a branding iron that was glowing red hot. It had an unusual design on it, and Takeo chuckled at her reaction.

"So you've decided to also be whipped; strange, most slaves don't want extra punishment." He walked closer to her and she closed her eyes. Cold fingers pulled the back of her shirt up, and she waited for the pain that she knew was inevitable. It wasn't long before she felt it, agony like she'd never experienced.

Atlas woke up a few hours later, and opened her eyes only to see a dark roof above. Her entire back was in utter pain, and she winced with every breath, even shallow ones. She tried to remember why it hurt so much, but all she could recall was feeling the brand and then nothing._ I must've passed out and Takeo must've still whipped me_, she realised. As if an alarm had gone off to alert her captors to her waking, a man appeared at the door. It was Takeo.

"Oh good; it's awake. Time for training," he said as he pulled her up by her heavy iron chains. "By the way, if you need to address me, which you shouldn't, you are to call me 'Takeo-sama,' understand?" Atlas nodded sharply and Takeo smiled what would have been a charming smile if not for the dark gleam in his eyes. "Good." He led her out of the room and into a courtyard. "You are a slave, but more than that, you are a certain type of slave – a pleasure slave. We won't just waste your pretty face by sending you into battle; oh no, we know better than that." Atlas allowed confusion to drift onto her features and Takeo chuckled. "Akito-sama's pleasure slaves are also known as 'sex slaves'."


	3. Chapter 2

2 years later:

The slave searched the streets around her for any sign of movement. So far there was nothing, but she knew her luck would have to run out at some point. She turned her gaze from the streets to the skies, and deduced that there were no flying patrols around. _Perfect_. She quietly removed the tarp that was covering the hawkzile she'd stolen the week before and climbed on board, pausing every so often to check around so as not to be snuck-up on. Nothing. _Now, this should be interesting_, she thought. _I've never ridden a hawkzile before. It looks simple enough, but considering this world, it's probably more difficult than it seems._

Ayanami had been correct; Atlas was not from this world. She fell from her world to his through some sort of gate or portal; something like that. Her world was very different from this one; Atlas had decided this when she finally accepted the truth. Her world didn't have zaiphon. Her world didn't have hawkziles. And her world most certainly didn't have slaves, slaves like her. She had been so reduced that she didn't even see the need to retain her name, though for some reason, she kept a hold of it. It was something, she supposed, to remind her of home, however poor that home had been. She had only that, a necklace and a single photograph that she kept hidden in her clothes.

Over the past years, Atlas's looks had changed somewhat. She was taller now, not by much, a few inches at most, but her hair had grown even longer. Her body had filled out to become that of a woman, albeit a relatively small chested one, and her face was less round and more sharp. The largest physical difference was a faint scar over her left eye, although luckily it hadn't impaired her vision. Atlas had also changed mentally, all thanks to Ayanami. Due to him, she was very paranoid, but she was also strong of heart; she wouldn't let him break her spirit like he'd planned. He'd made a mistake allowing her to hear that. Instead she would do the opposite, because being obstinate was part of who she was.

Atlas turned her attention back to her commandeered form of transport and decided to go for it. She gently pushed her foot against the pedal, and to her utter surprise the hawkzile lifted gently off the ground. _So maybe it is easy_.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A loud voice suddenly rang out across the night and the slave flinched. _I swear, every time I get distracted, something bad happens, _she scowled to herself.

"Escaping," she retorted to the man who'd been in control of her for the past three years. She wasn't being used any longer. Atlas pushed down on the pedal again and the hawkzile flung itself into the air, almost throwing her off, but she somehow managed to hold on. Sometimes she was grateful for her stubbornness.

"You won't get out of the district!" Takeo yelled after her and she rolled her eyes in disagreement. Of course she would escape; she'd waited too long not too. She ignored his shouts that no doubt woke the entire street from their slumber and drove the hawkzile away. She had to get away; if she didn't escape now she knew that she'd die back there, back in Akito's hellhole.

Takeo didn't understand how desperate the slave had become. She would escape one of two ways; by fleeing or by death, but she most certainly would not return. She would sooner die, than return to slavery. And that was the cause of her problem, the reason why she had ended up in this world; Atlas had welcomed death, embraced it even. Deciding to jump off that bridge two years ago was the reason she was in this mess. Her suicidal thoughts had driven her to the Barsburg Empire, and into slavery.

Of course, back then she had thought that killing herself was a good idea; she knew better now. However, she had had her reasons for doing what she did; her parents were abusive and her brother had decided that it would be fun to beat her up every other day. And the only person who she'd ever cared about, her soul-sister, had been murdered in front of her eyes.

She absently contemplated the differences in life styles between the two worlds as best she could, but considering she had been relatively 'wealthy' in her first world despite her abusive family, and was now a slave in this one, she came to the conclusion that she probably wasn't the best person to judge the pros and cons. Although Atlas did have the feeling that if she wasn't a slave, she'd prefer this world, mainly due to the lack of said family.

The hawkzile jerked suddenly, and she snapped her concentration back onto her flying. A growl emanated from the vehicle, and Atlas finally realised that it was actually a dragon. She raised her eyebrows, but otherwise kept her expression neutral; a habit that she had developed over the past two years. _I shouldn't have been surprised that this wasn't so much an inanimate object as a captured animal; after all everything else in this universe is weird,_ she contemplated, before deciding to try and calm the creature. "Shh, I'll drive better now," she reassured the dragon, and got a soft grunt in response. She continued driving east, as she had no idea where to go, so she decided she might as well continue driving in that direction. Hours passed, and she tried to keep her eyes open, but drowsiness was one of her enemies that she couldn't defeat through strength of will. She slumped forward, and fell into the darkness of sleep.

A loud shriek tore her from her sleep and she started, jerking upright in the saddle of the hawkzile. She searched for the source of the noise and then she realised. It was the hawkzile.

And she was falling.

Not only that, she was falling fast.

Atlas quickly threw herself from the hawkzile and into the air, and tried to focus her sleepy thoughts. Air rushed past her, and she concentrated until power pulsed out of her fingertips. A ring of blue zaiphon surrounded her just as the ground raced up to meet her falling body, and she sighed in relief before allowing herself to hit the ground from the mere height of a metre. Being a slave had certainly taught her some useful tricks, such as the use of attacking zaiphon. She looked to her right and sighed. The hawkzile was dead, that much was obvious. She vaguely wondered why it had fallen, before shrugging it off. She was safe, that was all that mattered. Apart from the corpse of the hawkzile's dragon, there wasn't much else around that she could see. But this time she had forgotten to look up, and was forced to hide her surprise as two other hawkziles landed beside her.

"Are you okay? That was a nasty fall," A man with reddish-brown hair and glasses said worriedly. Atlas jumped back from him and the man beside him who had light-purple hair similar to Ayanami's.

"I'm fine. Could you please tell me where I am?" She asked politely and the man with brown hair smiled.

"You're in District 7."

"The one with the church?" She questioned. Apparently there was a church that would shelter anyone, and the Imperial Army couldn't attack them. _That wouldn't be too bad a place to head for_, she thought.

"As far as I know, there's only one District 7, so yes, the one with the church," the first replied and she nodded stiffly.

"In fact, we're bishops from the church." The light-haired man added, and she looked at him. He had beautiful purple eyes, she realised, before shrugging the fleeting thought off.

"You don't look like bishops," she stated flatly, because they really didn't. The shorter one, the one with the purple hair, was wearing a dark jumpsuit with a fluffy collar while the other was wearing black pants with a black jacket and a white shirt.

"We may not currently be wearing our usual attire, but believe me, we are bishops," the first replied, and she raised her left eyebrow sceptically, conveying her disbelief. He sighed. "I am Bishop Castor, and this is Bishop Labrador," he said, gesturing first to himself, than to the purple-haired one. She nodded. They looked at her, clearly expecting her to introduce herself, which she didn't, a habit from when she'd first fallen between the worlds, and after that she hadn't needed to introduce herself.

"What are you looking at?" She asked innocently after a few moments, confused.

"You're not going to tell us your name?" Castor asked and realisation finally hit Atlas like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, right. My name is Atlas. And if you really are bishops, than could you please tell me how to get to the church?"

"Of course. We were just heading back anyway; we'll accompany you." Labrador spoke softly, and she frowned. She didn't want them going with her.

"I don't want to be a bother." She said, trying to discourage them, but they brushed off her feeble attempt immediately.

"It's fine. After all, we don't want to leave a boy out here alone." Castor said, and she sighed. At least her disguise as a boy was working, she thought somewhat optimistically. Before she'd left Akito's pleasure house, she'd bound her chest flat with bandages, and tied her hair back in a low pony-tail. She'd noticed that people tended to get her confused with a very pretty boy when her hair was tied back like that. She wasn't sure she liked it, but she used it to her advantage anyway. Being a boy was safer than being a girl. 


	4. Chapter 3

"Fine." Atlas muttered, and Castor chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing, just you remind me of someone we know," he replied somewhat mysteriously and Labrador nodded.

"He is a bit like Teito-kun," He said softly, and Atlas raised her eyebrows, before deciding to dismiss the conversation.

"Are we going to go?"

"Of course. Now, who would you like to ride with?" Castor asked and she looked at him, startled.

"What do you mean 'ride with'?" She queried and he looked at her puzzled.

"Well, there's only two hawkziles; therefore you're going to have to ride pillion with one of us." He said as if it were obvious. It was, she guessed, but that didn't mean she had to like it; She hated being close to people, due to her being a pleasure-slave against her will. She didn't even bother asking if the two bishops could share and she could ride solo; they would assume she was trying to steal their dragon/vehicle/thing.

"Uh, I'll go with Labrador," she decided quickly, as he was the smallest of the pair and therefore she'd be more likely to be able to defeat him in a fight before pausing. "If that's okay with you?"

"Of course," the bishop replied, smiling sleepily. Atlas nodded, and waited for Labrador to clamber onto his hawkzile before she followed suit. She tried as best she could to keep a distance between his back and her chest, and only lightly rested her hands on his waist as they took off. She glanced left and saw Castor had also joined them in flight, and turned her attention back to Labrador's back. _It'll be a miracle if I finish this trip without having torso to torso contact,_ she thought dryly.

As the hawkziles rose higher, she closed her eyes as memories started edging forward despite her wishes. Some were old and some were more recent.

**_The little girl cried out in pain as she was thrown against a door. "Mum, please stop!" She pleaded desperately but the woman that called herself the child's mother just laughed spitefully. _**

**_"Why should I? You're such an ungrateful little rat. We clothe you and feed you and all you give us is less money."_**

**_"I'm sorry," Atlas whimpered as her mother leant down over her and slapped her hard across the cheek._**

**_"You should be you bitch."_**

**_"Hello honey," Atlas's father said as he walked in the door. He paused briefly as he took in the scene. His only daughter was slumped against the door dripping blood onto the tiles while bruises bloomed on her body and the mother, his wife, was just standing there. Nothing unusual. "Why didn't you wait for me to get here before you started beating her up?" He questioned in a light tone and the mother chuckled._**

**_"Her skin is just so tempting; it wants to bleed, it wants to bruise," she explained and the father thought about it for a moment before nodding. _**

**_"You're right. Let me help you with that," he said as he kicked his daughter in the stomach._**

**_"You're a pleasure slave; but more than that. You are one of Akito's chosen few pleasure-death slaves. Therefore you'll also have the pleasure of killing the men or women you sleep with." Takeo instructed Atlas as she stood in the courtyard. She shivered in the cold wind, clad only in thin pants and a high-collared short-sleeve shirt in colours of grey and white. Not to mention the promise collar that bound her to Akito. Every second day he'd wake the slaves up in their dorms, so the collars didn't kill explode and kill them. That would be a waste of money, wouldn't it? On the bright side, Atlas thought, I don't have to wear chains anymore. "Slave, are you listening to me?"_**

**_ "Not really," She responded absently and received a slap across my cheek._**

**_ "You're asking for it now, slave." Takeo snarled and she paled, realising her mistake too late. Takeo dragged her out of the yard and into a separate, fenced off area. He roughly tied the young slave to a metal pole in the middle and ripped her shirt off her back. He then proceeded to whip Atlas, each lash leaving a line of fiery pain tracing down her back. Again._**

**_ "Control it you idiot! How do you expect to eat if you can't do a simple thing like control your zaiphon?" Takeo yelled and Atlas cringed. She tried to focus her emotion again, but sparks merely lit up the air briefly before fading. _**

**_ "If it hasn't mastered it by tonight send it off to Aoi. He can use it as a battle slave. One of the more disposable ones I should think." Akito said from where he was standing off to the side, checking on his newest slave's progress. She gritted her teeth as he walked away and channelled her anger at everything that had happened to her into her hands. To her complete surprise, and Takeo's, blue zaiphon slowly formed around her hands and her eyes shone with its reflected light. _**

**_"Good slave. Now, kill that man with it." Takeo ordered, and she faced the prisoner grimly._**

**_"I'm sorry," she murmured as she released her zaiphon._**

**_"So slave, what are you going to do for me?" The man lying on the bed asked the fifteen year old slave, a seductive tone in his voice. _**

**_"Whatever you want me to do," she answered robotically and he smiled sadistically._**

**_"Good. Come here." He ordered and she obeyed. He roughly grabbed her and threw her onto the bed before proceeding to rip the pleasure-slave's clothes off. He performed the same task on himself before forcing himself into Atlas. When he finally finished pleasuring himself he rolled off of her prone body and laughed. "Good slave." He said and she sighed, before snapping her hand open and allowing her blue zaiphon to appear in a loop around his neck. "What are you doing?" He asked suddenly, panicking and Atlas sighed._**

**_"Following orders," she answered, and released her zaiphon, ordering it to kill him. It obeyed and she sat up, pulling on what remained of her torn clothes. Just another day in the life of one of Akito's prized pleasure-death slaves, who get hired out to kill men and women in the lowest way possible._**_  
_


End file.
